Is This Death?

photo of columbus clouds

Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

Is this death, this dull ache in my back?

What of these pains that pulse through my body?

This fear that sleeps and wakes with me, is it death

like a crow picking on carrion in the street?

Is she death, this face that greets me in the mirror each morning?

This woman I do not recognize?

This exhaustion, is it death

ringing the bell, waring me that the time for eternal rest is fast approaching?

 

Perhaps it is death.

I do not like it though.

I prefer to believe it is life.

Life marching on.

Life marching over me.

 

Perhaps I will grab hold of it

and let it carry me along

through this maelstrom that rages for an eternity

or a moment.

 

Perhaps, when the winds die and the sea stops churning,

there will be peace

peace in this life

before death.

 

 

Shadows and Light

tree pathway

Photo by Adnan Uddin on Pexels.com

Four years ago, I wrote this poem. Four years ago, I let go of the misguided belief that to write about painful family relationships is to be disloyal. Four years ago, I began the process of becoming an artist. Make no mistake-you cannot be an artist if you censor yourself; if you hid your past; if you sacrifice your truth to protect others.

Shadows & Light

Life with you was shadows and light.

On days when there was only light,

there was never only light.

A small step

in either direction

and you would cast your shadow.

Some days it would remain small

yet present.

It would lurk

and wait

and then grow.

It would grow

until it reigned over us.

And tears would rain

from eyes

that searched,

longing for light’s return.

If only it was always shadow,

the light would not be missed.

But such was not our fate.

.

Now that you are gone, it is only shadow-

that haunts my memories

that burdens my conscience

that chases the light.

Shadows

Light

You

I

Life

Death

An end

that never ends